A cataclysmic bombardment by
meteorites drastically alter Earth's atmosphere... and bring strange alien
plants that have a mind of their own. Because of “mutant” powers, only Glyneth
recognizes the threat these Venusian flowers pose not just to humans, but to
Earth itself.

AN HONORABLE DILEMMA

Major Lucas Jefferson reluctantly
abducts Glyneth as a breeder for his country. But "Lady Bulldog"
teaches him that might is not always right. Can he learn from this villager to
fulfill the ancient prophecy of uniting the old ways with the new?

Scene Set-Up:

Major Lucas Jefferson's
mission is to invade a "primitive" village and abduct women. In this
scene, Glyneth, the unwilling victim, escapes, but then returns to help him
after he has been knocked unconscious by an outside force.

Excerpt:

When Glyneth reached for the
binding cloth, the man held onto her wrist with an unrelenting grip. “No. Stay.
I must... thank you.” His uniform shirt was tight without the armor, and
through the thin material she saw bulging biceps, powerful pectorals, and a
host of manly muscles.

She gulped down hard. She
felt so strange around this man. Unfamiliar emotions stabbed at her, causing
confusion.

No! This won’t do. I must
control myself.

She took a deep breath, then
glanced at her hand, neatly imprisoned within his grasp. “Perhaps you can thank
me by releasing me?”

He let her go, but continued
to pinion her to the spot with his mesmerizing gaze. “This much I can do. As
for allowing you to return to your village, no. That would not be for the
best.”

“It would be best for me.”
Warily eying him, she took a chance on his weakened state and sat a yard away
from him.

“No,” he repeated as if his
word was law. “You will be honored in my province of Columont. Doubly so
because you rescued an heir of the ten sons of Canusa.”

The ten sons of Canusa. Glyneth
scratched at the fake scar on her forehead, then released her hair from the
restricting ponytail. Not having her head covered in a man’s presence made her
feel extremely vulnerable.

Canusa, he had said.
Somehow, that word sounded familiar. “Who is Canusa? Does that mean you are a
prince?”

“The original Canusa was the
most holy of holies. Out of the ten sons--or the ten ruling families--one is
elected to reign as the new Canusa.” He shrugged his broad shoulders, then
winced with pain, probably because of his upper arm. “It is true, I am nobly
born.”

“Not a true warrior then.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “I thought so.”

His eyes narrowed,
glittering dangerously. “You wound me again, woman. Make no mistake, you shall
not escape me a second time.”

“You’re in no condition to
threaten me! Sweet Christmas, I saved your life! Allow me to return home and we
can call the debt paid.” Standing, she pointed her finger at him in an accusing
manner. “Believe me, I don’t want your double honor.”

Before she could blink, he
was on his feet, towering over her. With one quick movement, he twisted her arm
against her back. “We shall call it paid now. By rights I should kill you for
your insults.”

Oh, how her arm did hurt.
But she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flinch. “Kill me
because of words?” Due to his superior height, she lifted her head up to stare
long and hard at his cold, blue eyes. “You come from a savage people.”

“Savage?” he shot back.
“That is ironic coming from an uncivilized villager.”

The man paused. Raking his
gaze over her, he released her arm, then did a quick walkabout where they
stood, scanning the rock formations in the dark. “Raiding your village is not
something we wish to do but it is necessary for our survival.”

“And so that makes it
acceptable, hmmn?” For some perverse reason, she was enjoying herself. Fighting
with words was far more exhilarating than thrusting with swords.

He ran his hand over his
unbandaged hair and changed the subject. “You look different, woman.”

If she wasn’t scared before,
the peculiar gleam in his eyes scared her now. “It’s nighttime, in case you
haven’t noticed. Everything looks different in the dark. “If you’ll excuse
me--”

Cold metal snapped painfully
hard against her left wrist. It was a silver bracelet, cruelly imprisoning her.
He snapped a duplicate one, connected by a chain, on his own wrist.
“Handcuffs,” he explained. “So you cannot refuse the honor waiting for you back
at my province.”

Wild, fiery fury consumed
her. “How dare you--”

“I dare anything to bring my
prize back to Columont.” With his free hand, he rubbed his forehead. “Good
offensive move, by the way. Called a head butt, I believe. By thunder, it still
hurts. But not as much as the blow....”

He yanked on the handcuffs,
pulling her along. “Never mind. Come. We will find a spot to rest for the
remainder of the night. I could use a good sleep.”

Trailing behind like a
stubborn mule, she dug in her heels, but it was no use. She was no match for
his strength, even in his weakened, fevered state.

The man headed for an area
soft with undulating sand. “Your actions do your village proud. Plucky little
thing.” He sat down, giving her no choice but to follow suit. “I was not wrong
to select you. Quite an improvement without those bulldog cheeks. Your color
has also improved, but you could use more padding on your bones.”

She flared her nostrils.
“Let me go.”

Instead of answering, he
reached over and flattened his palm against her breast.

“Get away from me, you...
you beast!” Tears springing to her eyes, she shoved him away with her
unshackled hand.

Surprisingly, he did not
pursue her, but settled down into the sand. “That is rather difficult to do
with handcuffs binding us. No matter. I am relieved to know you have more
padding on your chest than I originally thought. Your future mate will be
pleased.”

How could she lie down next
to this monster? Imbuing her words with all the venom she felt, she hissed, “I
hate you.”

Although his eyes were
closed, he curved his lips into a smile. “I know. Good-night.”

And blast the man, but the
next minute, he started snoring!

Glyneth chewed on the
fingernails of her free hand, trying to figure her next move. She raised her
left arm, only to drag his arm up, too. There was nothing else to do but ease
down on the sand and close her eyes. The man had won this round. But, she still
had hope. As the ancient saying went, tomorrow was another day.